


Not Since Then

by Impalapossible



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Angst, Anxiety, Anxiety Attacks, Fluff, Hurt Sam Winchester, Rekindled Friendship, Sam Isn't Hunting
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-08-06
Updated: 2016-08-18
Packaged: 2018-07-29 20:01:20
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 2,275
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7697632
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Impalapossible/pseuds/Impalapossible
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>With Dean and Cas gone, Sam left the hunting life behind him. He ran for almost two months before settling down in a small town, in a tiny house. He wanted to live an inconspicuous life where no one would notice him. And he succeeded until an old friend barges in and disturbs the life he has set up for himself</p>
<p>--Sam Winchester x Reader --</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

Sam hadn’t slept much in the past few months. Not since Dean and Castiel disappeared after killing Dick Roman. The deafening silence kept him on edge. No amount of music, driving, or running ever seemed to fill the dark void festering within his chest. All of his family was dead and gone. No Bobby. No Castiel. No Dean. Just Sam. Alone. The panic attacks were frequent and without his family to help talk him down, he did the only thing he could think to do. Stop hunting and live as far away from those memories as possible.

After a few months of criss-crossing the country, Sam settled in a small home on the outskirts of Coalville, Utah. The first thing he did was to cut out every part of hunting he could from his life. Aside from the weapons in the back of the impala, Sam got rid of everything. The credit cards, cell phones, the fake ID’s. Hunting made him lose everything he loved and his heart couldn’t carry the grief of the job alone.

He found work at a tiny cafe in town. They asked few questions and he gave few answers. He didn’t want anyone getting close to him. He wasn’t going to let anyone in again. It was better to live a life alone than to watch another person he loved be slaughtered.

It was later than usual when Sam pulled into the driveway of his place. Stepping out of the car, he noticed the streetlamp flickering off and on. It was likely about to die and he secretly hoped it would so that even fewer people would bother driving past his place. Solitude. It was all he deserved. All he wanted. He made his way towards his door when he heard the sound of rustling in the bushes on the edges of his property.

Years of training came back in an instant and he cautiously approached, each step calculated. Each step careful. He didn’t carry a gun or knife on him anymore, so whatever this was he would have to take it down with his bare hands. He steadied his breathing, ready to pounce at any moment. “Show yourself whomever or whatever you are.”

The rustling stopped. His eyes searched the darkness for any other signs of movement. Suddenly he found himself thrust to the ground, flat on his back with his arms pinned over his head. Strong legs straddled his hips and it took a moment for his brain to register the face which hung just inches from his own.

“Y/N?”

A proud smirk crossed your. “Samuel Winchester. Long time no see sweetheart.” You let go of his arms and sat up to stretch. Sam didn’t mean to, but his eyes went down the form of your body, drinking in every curve that wasn’t there when he last saw you in your early teens. The years had been kind to you and it had been ages since a woman had touched him.

He didn’t notice how long he stared until your hand crossed his face. “Ow!”

“It ain’t a free show. You want the goods, you better pay me.”

Sam rubbed the sore spot on his cheek. “You are the one straddling me here Y/N.”

“Oh yeah. I guess that is true.” You quickly pushed off of him, and Sam surprised himself with the tiny whimper that escaped his lips from the loss of contact. He prayed you didn’t notice, but if you did you gave him no indication of it. You got on your feet first and helped him up.

“Sam. It has been so long! I can’t believe it is even you. What are you? Like 7 feet tall now?” You stood on the tips of your toes trying to pat the top of his head, but Sam grabbed your wrist first and laughed.

“6’4. And look at you. All grown up and stalking people at their home.”

“I have always stalked dangerous creatures Sam. I am a hunter. It is in the job description. And since when was Sam Winchester ever part of the home owning community? Last time I checked you were 5 foot tall bookworm with your head in the clouds who rode in the backseat of that car with your dad and Dean.”

Sam felt a pain in his heart and his expression fell at the sound of his brothers name. “That was a long time ago. Both dad and Dean are gone now.”

“Oh Sam. I am so sorry…”

“It’s fine. I’m fine.” Even Sam didn’t believe the way the words came out of his mouth. Before you could respond Sam cleared his throat, took in a deep breath, and puffed his chest out. “Anyways, why are you here Y/N? This is the middle of nowhere.”

You put your hands behind your back and rocked on your feet. “Me? Just in the neighborhood hunting. Not a monster. A deer. My Baba lives up here and she asked me to come during hunting season so she can make deer jerky for the family for Christmas.”

“And how did you find me?”

“You work at the cafe in town and I’ve been following you home the past few days to see what you were up to.”

Sam ran his fingers through his hair and sighed. “You really have been stalking me.”

You stop rocking and looked at him with an innocent expression. “Only a little. I didn’t break into your house.”

“Oh really? You sure you are telling me the truth there.”

You pouted. “I only broke in once. There. Are you happy?”

“Yes. And seriously, why are you even here? You saw I am living a pretty mundane life. Nothing to see here.”

“Exactly. You are living a mundane life like a regular jack off. Why would you do that Sam? You are a hunter. Hunters hunt. They don’t live in a house and work at a dead end job.”

Sam felt anxiety slowly creeping up on him. He did his best to push it down, but he could already feel his skin getting clammy. “Please stop.” He whispered.

You didn’t hear him. “I heard that you were one of the best. I mean I don’t talk to a lot of hunters, but what I have heard you and Dean were out there kicking ass and taking names. You fought wendigos and angels and demons.”

“Please stop.” Sam muttered again, the rush of an anxiety attack curling its way up and down his body.

But you still kept on talking. Your eyes floating around everywhere except looking directly at his ever paling face. “Just cause Johnnyboy and Deano are gone doesn’t mean tha-”

“Stop! Will you stop! Please. You don’t understand what I am going through or what I have been going through. I was 13 the last time you saw me and you come waltzing in like you know a damn thing about me. Y/N. I am tired. I have work tomorrow. I need to eat and go to bed. It was nice to see you again, but I need my solitude.” The words spilled out quickly. The world started spinning and Sam knew he needed to get into the house. Into his safe space.

He strode towards the front door, fidgeting with the keys in his pocket. His hands were trembling and he desperately tried to will them to stop so he could get the key in the hole. They fell to the ground.

“God dammit!” His lungs struggled for breath. He felt his entire body wanting to collapse in on itself. He had done so well. He kept the panic at bay so long as he didn’t dwell on Dean and his loneliness, but your conversation triggered the parts he was trying to so hard to forget. He willed himself to steady his breath and reach down for the keys. Just as his fingers touched the key ring, he saw grasp them.

“Here, let me open the door. Take a few breaths Sam. It is alright. Just focus on each breath. Inhale. Exhale.” You sounded so sweet, so concerned for him. He did as you said focusing on each breath. In. Out. In and out.

He heard the sound of the lock unlatching and looked towards you. He expected to see pity, but you just smiled warmly at him. “Come on sweetheart. Let’s get you laying on the couch with some water in you.”

“Why aren’t you leaving?” He said barely above a whisper.

“Because you need someone to make sure you are okay.”


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Sam should be pushing away, but he can't push the reader away. He just can't.

Sam sipped at the ice water in his hand, letting the cool liquid slide down his throat while he sank deeper into the loveseat in his living room. He was finally coming down from the rush of panic which pumped through him. You had helped carry him as best you could inside and sitting down before buzzing around to take care of him. Since he had never had guests, his house was normally very quiet. But your energy seemed to bring the tiny home to life as you flitted about looking for a blanket for him, bringing him the water, and then deciding you needed to cook for him. He tried to protest your acts of kindness. He tried desperately to convince you to leave him be, but you were far more stubborn than the 13 year old girl he remembered.

“You don’t need to stay Y/N. I just need some rest and I will be fine.” He shouted towards the kitchen.

“I am making you food Samuel Winchester and you are gonna just have to deal with it.” Your tone responded obstinately. Your voice was followed by the sound of more shuffling of pots, pans, and boxes in his nearly barren shelves. He rarely felt the need to cook. He ate at work or he didn’t really eat. With Dean gone, it just didn’t seem all that important to him.

“For someone with a stationary home, you sure don’t have a lot of things to cook up. What the hell do you live on sweetie?”

“I work at a cafe. I get plenty of food there. Also stop calling me sweetie and sweetheart. Sam is just fine.”

“Have you realized I haven’t once listened to what you have told me to do and you honestly think I am going to start listening now sugar?” You chuckled causing Sam to chuckle a bit.

“Touche.”

After a few more minutes you came back out with a bowl in your hand. You handed it over. Sam looked and saw his favorite cereal filled to the edge with milk. “Really? Cereal? This is your idea of cooking?”

You shrugged before perching yourself on the couch arm almost like a bird hovering beside him. “It isn’t my fault all you own is like 10 boxes of Lucky Charms and no boxes of pasta.”

Sam smiled at you. “You are right. Thanks for this.” He held the bowl up before he started scooping spoonfuls into his mouth. It was awkward as you watched him eat, never looking away. Images of his brother watching over him, or even Castiel, floated in his mind and pricked his heart.

“I’m sorry you had to see me like this Y/N.”

“Don’t worry about it. I get them too.”

Sam looked over from his bowl. “You do?”

“Yep. Years of hunting monsters has done a number on my mental and emotional health. But it’s all good. Just one more thing to deal with.”

“Is that why you knew how to help me?”

You nodded. “Years of practice. It is much easier to talk someone through it than to get yourself to do it though.”

Sam thought for a moment, but decided to finish eating his cereal before continuing the conversation. After the last bite, he tilted the bowl back to finish the remaining milk, some of it dribbling down his chin. Before he could wipe it away, your hand was there. He froze as you moved your thumb gently across his chin, the tip barely grazing his lower lip.

“Geez Sam, do you need a bib or something?” You teased.

Sam tried to steady his heartbeat. You were awakening the desire for touch he forced himself to push away. He wanted to feel more than your finger against his lips, or the warmth of your body so close to his own. But he told himself he wouldn’t allow another person to get close. He wouldn’t let himself be heartbroken again by the loss of those he loved. It wasn’t fair to himself, but it was fairer to them. They would be safer.

Conjuring up the words to speak he turned his head towards you, “Y/N I nee-”

Lips were pressed against his. Your lips. They were soft, warm, a gentle. You cupped his cheeks in your hands, gently rubbing your thumbs against the scruff of a few days worth of not shaving. Sam let out a small moan as you pulled your lips back.

Your forehead rests against his.

“Y/N…what was that for?”

You smile brightly and wink at him before kissing him again. The kissing which led to you in his lap, his hands moving up and down your body. You wrapping your legs around him, his hands on your thighs as he pulls you towards his bedroom. Torn off shirts discarded with the rest of your clothing. The silent escape his home once was now filled with the sounds of ecstasy as Sam took comfort in the human urges that surged through both of you.


End file.
